From Me,To You
by x0x.RunnSmackkintoYouu.x0x
Summary: /I guess I can say I love you. You're one of a kind. Just don't fall in love before next summer. I'll be there, I promise..\\ Shmitchie; ON HIATUS!; Rated T
1. The Locket

**A/N : Dear Reader, HAPPY**_ BELATED_ **VALENTINE'S DAY! Enjoy my first Shmitchie shot. **

**Love;** x**o**x** PARAMAYERSWIFT x**_o_**x**

From Me, To You– Shmitchie (One shot)

Hey.

So it's been a while and suddenly… slowly things have changed. And gradually everyday I continue to wonder if you care about me anymore. Just last summer, you changed me. I mean, everything about me was just so conceited and smug it felt almost unreal. Well, now it did. You brought out a side of me that I never thought I'd see again. I wanna let you know that every time I look in mirror I swear I'm seeing such an amazingly, loveable soul that takes over half my smile. This morning I looked … and saw you.

You see, this is because I dream about you almost every night. You're smiling at me as we row the canoe back to camp. Every night in my dreams you stop to grasp my hands that tremble whenever you're that close. You gaze at me with your chocolate eyes -- coloured gorgeously and just as sweet -- and my heart melts. As always you lean in to kiss me and just when we go to close the gap … I awake.

Everything I do reminds me: Your hair, your eyes, your voice…Everything about you is amazing. And everyday I wish it was camp again. I want to see you again. I want to see you smile again, and gaze into my eyes again, and sing with you again. Gosh, you have a beautiful voice.

I have to say, I've never met a girl like you. You're so grounded, and happy, and wonderful. You make me want to be like that too. And I try as hard as I can so that I am. My band mates like it and so does the label.

So thank you…for everything. And when I am on tour, I miss you more. I guess I can say I love you. You're one of a kind. Just don't fall in love before this summer. I'll be there, I promise. Maybe I'll write the next song for us to sing at Final Jam. But heck, it'll never be as good your song. I could sing a zillion songs with a zillion girls but none of them would be as good as you.

See you later, Mitchie.

From me, to you

_ Shane_

P.S – Can you please get your dad to build Jason a damn birdhouse?! I mean, really, the dude's been bugging me for one since forever! Please do it ... For me?

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

After reading the New Zealand postcard, that had the last 6 sentences crammed at the bottom, Mitchie finally grew the guts to open the package Shane sent her.

Ripping open the box, she gasped. It was a locket. She cautiously lifted it from its foam.

'THIS IS REAL', it said on the front.

She smiled widely and shifted the locket open.

'THIS IS ME', it said, next to the picture of Shane in white skinny. So dorky, yet so cute.

the last thing she read, placed on the back of the locket was:

'BE EXACTLY WHERE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE'

Mitchie shed a tear. It was all too beautiful. "I will." she whispered, holding the locket against her chest.

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**Review if you likey. Shmitchie FTW!**


	2. The Guitar and the Fearless Guitarist

**If you didn't notice ".xox" centered is me going back and forth between the letters and Shane/Mitchie's real life. For the most part Shane and Mitchie are going to take turns writing. I don't mean to confuse you, reader, it just happens. **

**So, yeah. Here's Chapter 2! Added a couple more characters just to build on the plot. Review if ya likey!**

**.xox**

**DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN IT, DISNEY DOES!**

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Dear Shane,

I miss you so much! I haven't stopped thinking about you. Thank you for the locket. It was beautiful. I never would have guessed you'd remember our song. You sing so many.

I'm happy I was able to change you for better. You looked so upset when we met. You know, before Camp Rock, I thought you were ungrateful for everything. You have so much — everything I ever wanted — and you were still lashing out. You reminded me of Tess. Now I _know_ material items don't bring happiness.

This may sound weird, but I thought if I admitted I dreamt about you you'd think I was some crazy obsessed fan. But _you_ dream about _me_. That's a nice twist. And... you dream about... _kissing_ me. That's a _**REALLY**_ nice twist. I don't mean to make this sound kinky, but as of now my lips are smothered in kiwi/grape lip gloss. I picked it because it was green. I hope you still like green or else I would've spent 15 bucks for nothing...

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

He grinned. Mitchie was so cute—even _not_ in person. He kicked himself for not kissing her when he had the chance. He was sure she fall in love before next summer. He should've made her famous, have her come with Connect 3 on tour. He was lonely. The only noise he heard was Jason.

Speaking of Jason...

"Hey, Shane,"

"Not now, Jay."

Jason appeared to Shane's sight in milliseconds. "How do you like my new style? I was gettin' bored of the same old thing, you know? Thought I'd be fearless."

Shane cringed. Fearless was exactly who Jason was, popping an orange tie-dye tee shirt with neon green skinnies. All Shane could do was stare. Jason was NOT Mitchie, and that pissed him off. "You look...LIKE THE GAYEST THING I HAVE _EVER SEEN_! What is _wrong_ with you, man? You're such a fag."

Through his words, that were now contaminating the air, he felt his friend's heart sink and rolled his eyes. And in his most bitter tone, he hissed: "Go cry to Nate."

He heard the guitarist footsteps fade out. Finally, he could finish reading the letter.

_x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x x**_0_**x** .

Shane, I don't know if I should tell you this. I don't know if you're "the one", but I trust you. So here it goes:

When I got back to school after camp, everybody found out about you upstaging my song. You'd think the kids at school would make me instantly popular; but that wasn't the case. People _still_ pick on me for "pretending to be your girlfriend". I don't tell people, I swear. If was as if I became _less_ wanted for knowing you. I didn't want to be popular; I just wanted to be liked. I don't blame you, Shane. I'm just not as beautiful or rich like the girls at my school. My hair isn't long and curly like theirs, I didn't hit puberty as hard as they did, my parents don't have millions of dollars to waste...X, Y, Z.

You know, I never really understood what you see in me. Lots of girls have brown eyes and nice voices—nicer than mine actually. Think about it.

From Me, To You:

_Michelle Torres_

P.S. You should totally keep playing the black acoustic……………

_. x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x x**_0_**x** .

Shane frowned at the paper. Ink was smudged all the over the bottom, so much so that he couldn't read anything. _Tears,_ he thought. Mitchie had cried writing the letter.

Tears started welling in his own eyes. "Nobody deserves to feel that way," he whispered. Feeling far too guilty—for Mitchie ONLY—to even try to read the smudged words, he got up looked around the room to distract himself. The black acoustic guitar caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment. It was beautiful, the way it looked in the sunlight. He never played it often; he had better guitars; louder, shinier ones at that.

Reluctantly, he went over to it, threw the strap over his shoulder, and started playing him and Mitchie's song.

…**But I have this dream,**

**Bright inside of me.**

**I'm gonna let it show,**

**It's time**

**To let you know —**

Before getting to the chorus he stopped and chomped down on his lip, realizing he had neglected the guitar. It had a sweet, soft sound. It was worth a lot more than he thought. It reminded him of Mitchie and…

"Jason," he muttered, full of remorse.

He placed the guitar down on the bed and headed, 20 miles-an-hour, down the hall. "Jason! We need to talk!" He knocked on Jason's bedroom door anxiously. "Look, man, I'm sorry! Open up." He sighed in defeat and leaned against the doorframe. "I was stupid, alright? It's okay if you wanna dress weird. I'll still... _love you_. You're like my best friend. You can't hate me."

With no answered received he pushed the door open. "Jason, I—"

The room was person less. Jason's bed was made (as always) and everything was there.

Except Jason.

Shane started to panic. _Uh-oh. The label is not going to like this, _he told himself, checking everywhere: the bathroom, the kitchen, even the little room reserved for birdhouses. Looking out the window it was black out; almost horror worthy. He checked his watch. 9:45. _Jason never takes walks this late_. He called Jason's cell.

No answer.

"Jason! Jason!" He yelled. It was useless. The bus had stopped in the middle of nowhere at around 7! Jason could've been anywhere by now!

"What'z-a-matter?" slurred Nate, walking by with a mouth half full of burger/half full of fries.

"Jason's gone."


	3. A Triple Dozen Shreds

**A/N: Sorry this took a while. it wasn't that long of a chapter to write.**

**Much love, xox.**

**Disclaimer : _Still_ don't own it.**

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Mitchie stared at clock, anxiously. It seemed everyone was playing the stare game today. That morning she decided to wear Shane's old sweater he'd sent her a couple weeks ago and the girls at school definitely noticed. Shane's shirt fit her just a smidge too well. She filled it in better than he did.

"Moo." She heard.

Mitchie bit her lip. She hated being called a cow. She didn't _think_ she was big. Shane was just small.

_Hey,_ she thought sadly. _At least they didn't—_

"Oink!"

Great. Now she was pig. A sloppy, fat pig. She wondered if pigs cried.

A series of laughs escaped the class's lips and finally, the bell rang.

_Forget them. Shane thinks you're beautiful. He sent you a letter this morning. Of course you didn't get to read it because you were late for school but…I'm sure it says everything you wanna hear._ Mitchie gave herself words of encourage while being shoved and oinked and mooed at.

She ran headlong for the bathroom, her eyes jam-packed with little salt-water drops. She pushed the bathroom door open at look ahead of her. The populars.

_Damn__ it_. She thought.

One of them turned around, staring her dead in the eye. "Hey wide load, we all know why Shane gave you that sweater; you grew out of all of yours." She said. "You should tell your mum to stop using your lipo in the burgers. It's _not_ working."

The group of girls laughed and walked out, pushing her out of the way with a "Hrrgh!" as they did.

As soon as they were gone, Mitchie burst into tears. She wanted Shane. _I need you, baby. _She whispered to him…or his ghost.

After a couple minutes of tears, she tore through her backpack, on the hunt for the envelope with love in it.

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

DEAR MITCHIE,

SORRY I'M WRITING IN CAPITALS. I'VE BEEN SO FREAKED SINCE JAY LEFT. HE'S NOT VERY SMART YOU KNOW. I SAID SOME REALLY SHITTY STUFF TO HIM AND HE JUST RAN OFF! I WAS GOING TO TELL HIM HOW SORRY I WAS AND TAKE HIM OUT FOR STRAWBIRDIE ICECREAM, BUT NOOO!

IT REMINDS OF THE TIME I MADE OUR DESIGNER CRY WHEN I SAID I HATED HIM. I DON'T MEAN IT, IT'S JUST SOMETIMES THINGS COME OUT. I CAN'T HELP IT. IT'S NOT MY FAULT BOTH HE AND JASON DRESS LIKE DOUCHES!

YOU KNOW WHAT? IF HE WANTS PLAY THIS GAME, I'LL PLAY! I AM NOT EVER APOLOGIZING FOR ANYTHING I'VE DONE! JASON'S JUST INSECURE. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I SAY, HE'S WEAK.

AND THOSE GIRLS WHO BULLY YOU, SUCK IT UP! SO WHAT YOUR BOOBS ARE SMALL AND YOU'RE A LITTLE OVERWEIGHT? THEY'RE HELPING YOU! TAKE IT AS ADVICE, WILL YOU! YOU AND JASON ARE IN SERIOUS NEED OF CONFIDENCE. IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME! IT NEVER DID! THERE ARE GOING TO BE PEOPLE WAYY BETTER THAN YOU! MEET 'EM, GREET 'EM, ASPIRE TO BE LIKE 'EM. THAT'S WHAT I DID, BABE!

FROM ME, TO YOU:

_SHANE_

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

Mitchie could _not believe_ what she had read. Douches? Overweight? _BABE_? He was never like this. Ever! He was the monster she'd met at the beginning camp …Only worst! There were even little bitty holes in the paper from him pressing so hard with the pen.

This made Mitchie absolutely devastated. Shane was so upset he was taking it out on her. Why? What did she do?

Then she remembered the letter.

She told him about the bullies, thinking he was the one! She told him about _everything_; even her……assets. She TRUSTED him and he stabbed her in back! Mitchie was now furious. Shane didn't care about her, he wanted a girlfriend! He'd lied their entire relationship!

_Beautiful,_ she hissed, _Yea right._

She knew her insecurities were not Shane's fault. Maybe she was weak but was no excuse for him hurt her like that! And she would never, under _ANY_ circumstances, aspire to be a Popular. He may've done what he had to do, but she would not.

Mitchie ripped the deceitful paper into a triple dozen shreds and cried again, this time full of hate. The paper around was nothing but pieces, just like her.

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**Don't just sit there ... Review! lol =P**


	4. Change Back

**A/N: **_YAY! JOE AND DEMI ARE FINALLY DATING!! WAY2GO JEMI! Kind of jealous, though. Joe is one good-looking fella. And that beard? Yummmm. ;) Face it, he's gorgeous!_

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**Anyway, Chapter 4 is here! I'm narrating from Jason side. You know, stretch the variety.**

**Hope you eager beavers enjoy! =)**

**Love you ;) x3**

Disclaimer:** Disney's . . . as always.**

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Jason Blake put on his favourite green skinnies and Connect 3 t-shirt, and then looked in the mirror.

He stared at his reflection for a while to contemplate his outfit. He saw nothing wrong with the jeans; they were cool. In fact, he thought they were _damn_ cool. Looking at himself, he also spotted the band on his shirt: he, Nate and Shane.

"_You look...LIKE THE GAYEST THING I HAVE__EVER SEEN__! What is__wrong__with you, man? You're such a fag."_

Jason shuddered at the memory. He liked girls, girls loved him. So what he was different? His mum always told him he was special. He was the only one in his family with hazel-like eyes, the funkiest style, and the lightest hair. Nonetheless, Jason had known why Shane had said what he had. Shane was shallow. Selfish. The typical fame-addict stereotype. It made Jason sick just thinking about Shane, so he tore off the shirt and started dressing his upper body from scratch.

Once finished, he walked out of the abandon shack he'd found about a week on a scavenger hunt with some fans. He thought on that day if he were ever to runaway he'd book a flight to Texas and find this shack. (Un)fortunately, Jason found use for it quicker than he thought. All he had to do was walk off the bus, down the road and up a hill.

By eleven A.M he was touring the town and no one recognized him at all. No "Oh my gosh, it's Jason Blake!", no "Oh my gosh, I so wanna marry you!", no anything! He figured he was nothing without Shane strutting ahead of him. He was just a prop for Teen Heart-throbs Shane Gray and Nate Wright. He was non-existent… and quite hungry when he pondered it. Eventually he found a breakfast place on a dusty little road called Branson Avenue.

"Welcome, buddy." said the woman at the front, letting him inside.

The smell of bacon, eggs, English muffins, and coffee stung him. Now he was starving. So much so he couldn't even respond to kind and good-looking door lady. He just wanted food. Fast.

So with eyes like blinders, he sat at the front pay table. "Excuse me!" he called the waitress, anxiously.

The waitress whipped around, a frown on her face. "Huh? Oh." She said, lightening up. "What would you like, Mr. Blake?"

He smiled. _Somebody_ knew who he was. "Whatever you got; I'm starved."

"BLT and coffee it is." She laughed.

Jason's heart skipped. Her laugh was nice; like chimes almost. He was falling for her and without more ado he found himself looking for great things about her. Her figure was fabulous, her eyes were a bright blue, she...

…Had a boyfriend?

The man she was talking with before he'd addressed her was now sucking her face off in a kiss, holding her steady on the counter.

The second he huffed, the waitresses ring tone blew up. It was Play My Music. Jason cringed for more reasons. Shane had claimed the song was his "turning point". Liar.

Peering out at the Texan grey sky, he wondered if _Nate_ missed him. He had been gone for at least four days with just Violet Rose (his lucky purple guitar) and a pair of knee-high rainbow socks. He sure missed him. Watching Nate shove a burger and fries down his throat all at once was incredible.

It wasn't long before Jason was pigging out on his own sandwich and coffee. He avoided eye-contact with the waitress when she smiled handing him food, finding inefficient ways to distract himself from the pain.

Next to Jason sat a pile of magazines and newspapers. He chose to pick one and scanned through the Cartoon Funnies, the Fashion Disasters (the only page he ever really showed up on) and the Final Says.

Flipping backward, he caught a rather familiar face. She had brown hair, brown eyes and a huge smile. _The girl with the voice,_ he realized, _Shane's girlfriend!_

He wondered what she was doing in the Band Slamz section. Then he saw the headline:

**SUMMER CAMP SWEETHEARTS SHANE GRAY AND MITCHIE TORRES FALL OUT:**

**SHANE CALLS HER ****FAT****!!**

Jason jaw dropped and he hastily analysed the photo. Mitchie _was not_ the slightest bit overweight, never mind FAT! He had to read the rest...

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

_Dear TeenStar magazine,_

_I thought I'd let all Connect 3 fans know Shane and I over! O.V.E.R, over!_

_You know when you meet someone I swear they've changed when they have not? They tell you all that stupid shit: they love you; you're beautiful, yada yada yada. You tell them your secrets, your fears, your dreams and visa versa. You trust them. Quickly all that changed. Shane became a horrid monster! He wrote things no bitch could say to my face! Not even the Popular Chicks at my school. He called me "overweight"! If he had problems with my size, he should've told me from the start. I'm sorry I'm not Taylor Swift or Kate Moss!_

_And I was so excited about next summer. I missed him dearly. Those nights I cried with the locket on my heart were real. Those days I crossed out on the calendar were real. My love was real! But nothing was as real as the shreds of paper around my room when I destroyed every letter; especially the one in which Shane advised me __NOT__ to fall in love before next summer; that he'd be there._

_Well, he can be there, but I WON'T be! And I maybe I will! Maybe I'll find a guy who doesn't call me FAT and switch on me when they're "best friend" runs away!_

_Yes C3 fans, Jason Blake is gone. He left. Shane flat out admitted to me he provoked Jay's disappearance. He called Jason a dochebag! Then said he was not going to apologize. _

_So neither am I. I may not popular and rich, but I would never do the things he's done to both me and Jason. I'm sick of crying, and screaming, and sleeping with his sweater on. I sold it, by the way. I'm sure somebody else would enjoy John Lennon's autograph. _

_Shane, go find yourself a bitchy ass supermodel. I'm not her. _

_To Jason: you are loved by many, many people. You are amazing at what you do. You don't have to go back to Shane (I am not), but you should let Nate and your family know you're okay. They miss you. From me to you, I guarantee it._

**x**_0_**x** . _x_**o**_x_ . **x**_0_**x**

Jason stared at the magazine. Shane hadn't change in the least. Poor Mitchie; she really, really love him…or who she _thought_ he was.

If Shane was ever to get a hold of this article, he'd probably cry. Shane cared a lot about Mitchie…or so he _said_ he did.

A locket, a picture of Camp Rock and a Polaroid of Mitchie & Shane were shattered across the following page. The next headline read _**"**_**Is**_** Michelle fat? You weigh in!"**_.

_Stupid pun_, he thought, consider calling his mother. Mitchie was right—whoever she was to him. His mother had always been careful for him. She thought LA Records was perfect for him. Safe, fun, with firm restrictions. Besides, it would be long before he was all over the news.

Jason groped his pocket and remembered he left his phone on the bus. _Dang._

A pay phone would have to do...

If only the slut waitress gave him his change back.


	5. Chasing Jason

**A/N: I know some of you have been stressin' on Shane's attitude. ****WARNING; it doesn't get any better in this chapter, aha. and btw there's another jerk coming your way.**

**About Mitchie, I plan on throwing her back in the mix ... I just gotta figure out how ... *strokes chin ***

**Enjoy and Review :)**

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"This...is _not_ good, Shane." said Mr. Raymond, the manger of LA Records. He tossed to issue of Teenstar magazine across the conference table to Nate and Shane, a deep scowl plastered on his middle-aged face.

Shane looked intently at the page though he'd seen it many times before. It was all over everywhere: TV, magazines, gossip blogs, you name it. Everyone was talking about Mitchie letter. And all he could do was bit his lower lip and bow his head. It was routine for him. He was doing it now.

He heard the manager speak again. "What do you have to say for yourself, Mister Gray?"

Shane cleared his throat. "Uh, I don't think _'saying things'_ is my forte." He admitted, attempting a slight joke.

"Oh," Nate threw in, "_Now_ you wanna shut up. After Jay leaves."

Shane looked up his band mate, gave him stink eyes, then looked around the table. Mr. Raymond, his Uncle Brown, Josh, Mary, Adam and Westerly (two assistances, a co-writer and a camera guy) as well as his mother all sat there. Clearly, they were in no mood for jokes.

"Well," his Uncle Brown started, sighing into his coffee. "How are we gonna fix this mess? Shane cannot apologize, I don't have anymore PR options 'till May and Connect 3 fans are waiting for the rescheduled tour dates."

Nate gulped loudly and Shane could tell Nate & Jason's love/hate relationship was just a publicity stunt. When push came to shove, Nate loved Jason just as much as Shane did.

So everyone at the table could sense the tension when Nate murmured: "We could always just...you know...hire another guitarist.", and Shane snapped: "No!"

"We have to! Time is money." Mr. Raymond argued.

And then, Mary finally said something for like the first time in her career with C3 —C_2_ now. "Or," she held the note. "…We could find Jason."

"Now how are we gonna do that, Mary?" Josh asked, doubtful.

"He left while they were in Texas. Call me crazy, but maybe just maybe we could, I don't know, LOOK THERE!"

Shane hadn't no idea Mary's voice was so high...or sarcastic. But she was right.

He wondered why he didn't think of that.

Oh yea. He was stupid.

Adam was third to pipe up. "What if he left? He could anywhere by now."

Shane rolled his eyes. Why was everybody so negative?

Oh yea. Because he was stupid.

"Alright, Mary may be onto something—"

"Ya think?" Nate whispered under his breath.

"Okay," their boss snapped his chubby fingers and jumped out of his chair. "I got it! We make a reality show! We'll call it _Chasing Jason_!"

The table of people frowned, but Shane noticed nobody was as upset as his mother.

"A reality show? ...A REALITY SHOW!!?" Ms. Gray yelled, her face reddening. "MY SON'S HAS ANGER ISSUES, A BOY IS MISSING WITH NOWHERE TO LIVE, AND YOU WANNA MAKE A REALITY SHOW!!?"

Shane rapidly flung an arm over his mother. "Mom, calm down. Please." He pleaded, handing her a mint. He had ignored the fact his mother addressed his anger. It was just phase...They hoped.

"Think about," Mr. Raymond told them. "The more viewers the show gets, the higher odds there are of finding Mister Blake are. I promise you, we'll find him."

Ms. Gray huffed a sigh. "Okay. I trust you. Mrs. Blake is still locked up in her house, worried sick."

"Really?" Shane spat. His body felt numb, his tongue felt like it was made of metal and he was about to vomit. Mrs. Blake was worried _sick._ Jay was her only son.

Peering around the room once more, Shane saw everyone looking kind of depressed. They had every right be to. _I'm a —_

The boss snapped his fingers again and pointed at Westerly, throwing Shane of his thoughts. "Westerly, get this! Their faces! It's gold!" He ordered.

Shane quickly got himself out of guilt, feeling returning to his body. His fans couldn't see him like this; all teary eyed and sad-like. What would they think? He was _sensitive_? Hell, no! He was Shane Gray. _I'm the tough, badass one._ He said to himself.

Westerly turned on the camera and circulated the table, getting each and every facial expression. The second Westerly got to Shane, Shane straightened his leather jacket and smirked.

_Yup,_ he smiled on the inside. _I'm the tough, badass one alright_.

Honestly, all he could think was to look pretty. Damn, did he love attention.

Mr. Raymond tucked his laptop under his arm and headed for the door. "We'll start filming on Thursday. Remember...be sad."

Shane gave him thumbs-up.

Ms. Gray growled at them both. Shane jumped.

"Uh, I mean, uh...find Mister Blake."

And with that Raymond hastily left, and the Westerly stopped filming.

Shane face sunk. Camera time over. The search was on.

"From me to you, this is not going to be easy." Nate whispered in Shane's ear.

Nate's words came out the other ear. "I don't care. I'll get 22 minutes of camera time every_day_ whether Jay comes home or not. Like you said, guitarists are replaceable."

"I never said that."

"It was implied."


	6. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**A/N: Thanks for waiting! :)**

**ily, x**_o_**x**

**P.S. Mitchie's back!...Her dad too. **

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On Friday, Mitchie slammed the door behind her, leaving Sierra out alone on her front porch. One thing was different this time: Mitchie didn't open the door back up and say she was sorry. Because subsequently, she'd have to invite her in for burgers. And Mitchie just wasn't in the mood for that. Not now.

She threw her shoes off and dumped her bag down beside it. The bag reminded her of school, which reminded her of the Populars, which reminded her of Tess, who reminded her of —

She shuddered. HotTunez TV just announced _Chasing Jason_ was premiering that night. The trailer had been dramatic: home-videos of Jason and his family, fans crying, the LA Records Manager pacing up and down, Nate and Jason's mom gasping...and so, _so_ much more. Yet...no Shane.

She held her breath watching the trailer, preparing herself for her ex-boyfriend's snippet, sweating almost. It was like he was actually coming right into her living room Friday, as if he was going to visit her just once each day from now until Jason's return.

And then, if Jason did return, Shane would be happier and maybe, possibly…-

_No__!,_ Mitchie snapped_, He hurt you. You can't just forgive him! You're better than that!_

She figured she was right. She was better than that. But she was still going to watch. You know...just to see.

— **x.**_0._**x —**

After eating her way through a pack of marshmallows and lying to her mother about her day at school ("It was great", "Sierra and I sat with a bunch of friends", "I'm doing well in math", blah blah blah), Mitchie had spent almost 2 hours in the kitchen and her father came home from work, finishing up supper and leaving her mother to shower.

"Mitchie, you probably don't want to watch that new Connect 3 show, do you?" her father asked.

Mitchie had told her parents about the letter, her weight, her long-distance relationship with Shane, as well as everything else 'Shmitchie'related— _after_ they had stumbled across the issue of Teenstar of course. Connie, being the cliché mother, told Mitchie she was beautiful and deserved better. However, Mitchie herself could not bring her brain to register that just yet. She missed who she thought Shane was. And perhaps, just a simple little perhaps, she would spot him tonight.

"Actually," Mitchie said, trying to shrug casually and failing. "I am going to watch. But you know…just to see."

"Mmm-hm," her father replied.

"What?"

"It just seems you're not quite over that _Shane_." He said, voice filled with disgust.

"Yes I am. I am so over him. I..." And with that Mitchie gave up the denial. "I am so not." She sighed.

Jerry covered his daughter's shoulders with his arm. "It's okay, sweetheart. We've all gone down that road. We think a person is the one and they're not."

Mitchie shrugged him off, getting upset. Her weight was overbearing enough. "It's not like that, Dad! What Shane and I had was so much more than just a summer fling. I loved him. We mailed each other and talked on the phone for _hours_, we kept each other pictures..." she hesitated, embarrassed and close to tears, "…He…He sung me to sleep at night."

With her eyes all blurry and ears numb she suddenly felt herself against her father's chest. She felt herself crying and saying "I miss him, I miss him" over and over again.

For the next hours during dinner, game night and the ever so dreaded premier of _Chasing Jason_, it was the same. She forever mouthed and mumbled how she missed Shane, how she loved Shane, and how she needed Shane. Mitchie was dying and that Jerry couldn't believe. He read Teenstar and figured Mitchie own words inspired her and bunch of other girls done wrong. One minute she was tearing Shane posters, the next she was crying into her hands, just like she was now. Then he remembered what his first breakup was like. He was devastated, ashamed. Of course he'd later met Connie, but still—he shouldn't have hurt that particular girl. She was too precious...just like his Michelle, whose pain struck him like lightening. He desperately wanted to make her feel better. So the next morning, he came up with something ...

Something special.

— **x.**_0._**x —**

"Hey, Mitch?," she heard her dad start, knocking her bedroom door and entering shortly after.

She drew herself away from the mirror fast, praying her father didn't see her sucking her stomach in to like her reflection better. "Yea, Dad?"

Mitchie watched him as he waltzed over to her; cautiously and with a skeptical look. She realized he had seen her actions. She held the stale air in her lungs, feeling his cool breath against her cheek and his hands skimming down her torso. His hand hitched at the hem of her shirt, he pulled it down, covering her tummy.

"You are _not_ fat, hunny." He hissed. It was the firmest, maddest way he'd ever spoke to her. "Why does everybody love you but you?"

Mitchie shook her head, crazed at the contact they were having. Why was he touching and talking this way? "I don't know, Dad." was all she could get out.

"Neither do I, Michelle. But I know it's more than Shane Gray...And I know there's more to your story that you're telling me…" he shook his head and backed away from her body before going to far. Mitchie's privacy was definitely something to respect at this time. "Anyway, I got us these."

Mitchie saw two train tickets come out of her dad's pocket. "What is it?" she asked stupidly. She knew exactly what it was.

"I was thinking maybe you and me…I don't know…head to Atlanta for a couple of weeks."

Mitchie was shocked. "Atlanta? Dad, spring break isn't 'til another 3 weeks." She paused. "How did you pay for this?"

"Does it matter? Let's have fun. I know you're missing out all male-role-model thing with Shane. I want to help. I'm going to be your man."

She frowned. _What the heck is he talking about? My man?_ "Oh 'kay? That sounded awkward..."

"Oh sorry. I meant your _'old man'_." He said, throwing finger quotations over 'old man'.

This made Mitchie laugh. Her dad was the greatest. "So? When are we leaving?" she demanded.

Her dad smiled. "Today; 12:45."

Mitchie looked at the clock. 9:50 am. "Oh my gosh!"

"I know," he said routing for the door. "Get packed, Mitch."

Her heart stuffed with joy, she spat, "Dad, wait!"

He turned to her. "Yea?"

She gulped quietly. "I love you." She murmured. It was hard. She never said it much; not since she was accepted into Camp Rock anyway—and that was nearly a year ago.

"I love you, too." He replied.

And Mitchie started packing, excited for what was coming ahead. No school, no mom, no _Chasing Jason_ (although her prayer were with him) and no bedroom. This meant no guitar to cry on over Shane, no pictures of Shane, and no TV to watch Shane.

_Out of sight, out of mind_... she thought.

* * *

_**;**_

**A/N : What should happen in Atlanta? Review and let me know.**


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